So I’m riding along minding my own business this morning when our small breakaway group gets to Robson Ranch Rd. in Northlake. The entrance coming off of Faught Rd. is up a big, steep incline covered in dirt and gravel. I failed to appreciate how my speed and the act of turning on the incline would not set well with the debris. My front tire slid out and I promptly ended up belly-flopping face-first onto the road. I tried my darndest to keep my face up, but bounced my chin pretty good on the asphalt and did a little slidy thing on my stomach. Would have been fun on, say, the surface of a swimming pool I have no doubt.

I got up and did a quick inventory and dusted myself off. The results were pretty mild, actually. The scrapes to my body were on fleshy areas and only my right knee had a leak. My left hand and chin took the brunt of the force and though my glove was shredded, the hand was intact. My thick chin whiskers did fine duty protecting my chin, leaving only an annoying bruise and some mild swelling. My first ever crash on a road bike. All-in-all, not bad.

The folks in the group were very helpful and to my relief no one passed comment on how silly I looked or how every cyclist should know not to make a turn at-speed in dirt and gravel. By the time I got everything upright, checked out, and dusted off, the rest of the group had caught us and we started up again, en-masse. Only my bruised left hand had any effect on my riding comfort. No biggie.

Not an hour later, the group was strung out again. I opted not to stay with the fastest few, but instead just finish the ride at a decent pace. As I slowed to wait for a buddy of mine who was struggling a bit today, I looked back over my shoulder to see how far back he was and as I did my line drifted toward the side of the asphalt road and my front tire slid off the surface layer onto the shoulder. This time I went down on my left side and this scrape felt a bit worse than the previous one.

My buddy came around the corner just after to find me on my back with my fists in the air, shouting, “Really!?” at the cycling Fates. I was pretty livid at that point and just wanted to crawl under a rock. With this crash I had punctured my front tire and it was hissing at me with derision. Luke (my buddy) was kind enough not to laugh or snicker. Instead he got my bike turned over and offered me a spare tube as I was checking myself out. This was a more painful crash, with a hip pointer and some serious road rash on my inner elbow. Oh, and again with the bruised hands. Just shoot me now.

Go my tube replaced, chain back on, and then back on the road. We still had a few miles to do, but we just rolled it home at a moderate pace. Mindful of gravel and road edges, of course.

Epilogue

They say bad things come in threes. Yesterday I did the last half of my ride in low gear, as my rear durelier cable frayed and I couldn’t shift. Today I had 2 crashes so that’s 3; I think I’m set. The danger has, I hope, passed. I’m ready to be done with this little run of bad luck (or is it ineptitude?) and to get back to normality. Hey, I can hope right?.